


Rebel With a Cause

by crumbums



Category: The Simpsons
Genre: F/M, High School, Teenage Rebellion
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-01
Updated: 2018-12-05
Packaged: 2019-08-14 10:38:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16490987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crumbums/pseuds/crumbums
Summary: Lots of people agree that that Muntz boy is a bad influence on top Springfield High student Lisa Simpson. Other people feel it's the other way around. What's certain is that no one really understands how they could ever get along as well as they do.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hello, i am here because these two are criminally underrated, so much so that it inspired me to write my first fic ever.

Lisa hurried into the detention room keeping her head low, hoping no one would recognize her. This was, of course, futile as her wild blonde hair stood out in a recognizable way to most people in Springfield High. She just didn't want to acknowledge the fact that she was there in the first place. The room, half full with unfriendly looking teenagers that had been previously tossing crumpled paper balls at each other and yanking desks around, went quiet as she walked in, and a couple of ‘oooh’s could be heard as she gave the detention slip to the teacher at the desk, who barely read what was written on it and simply pointed her to the free desks they had left before going back to her crossword puzzle.

Trying to avoid all eye contact and becoming collateral damage, Lisa made her way to an empty desk near the furthest corner of the room and sat down. She could feel several pairs of eyes staring at her, probably mocking her, she figures, but fortunately it didn’t last long and the chaos resumed. Sighing, she pulled out one of her books and set it vertically on the desk, hiding behind it as she attempted to read.

“Hey, brainiac, since when do  _you_  get detention?” a familiar voice behind her piped up mockingly, making her tense up.

She turned around to face the boy sitting behind her. Of course it was Nelson Muntz. He had a smug smirk on his face, much like the first time he caught her on detention when they were kids.

Lisa gave him a tired look and rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I know, ‘haw-haw’ and all that. I don't need this right now. You know why I'm here.”

Nelson blinked and raised his eyebrows. “Actually, no, I don't. Been here all day and no one’s said a thing. You're gonna fill me in or what? Sounds like it was something big,” he said flipping his pocket knife closed before crossing his arms over the desk and leaning forward curiously.

Noticing the knife, Lisa glanced down at Nelson’s desk and could tell he had been carving obscenities and crude drawings into the wooden surface. It was clear he had been bored all morning.

“Well,” she began hesitantly, “I got in an argument with a teacher this morning.”

“...That it?”

“I also told him to shove his teachings of Sigmund Freud up his—” she cupped her hand around her mouth and whispered, “ _—ass_.”

Nelson’s eyes widened and a half-smile grew in awe. “Whoa, Simpson, didn't know you had it in you to rebel like that.”

Lisa blushed. “Well, it's not... _that_  big of a deal,” she handwaved sheepishly. Then caught herself. “Wait, no, I mean— you can't say that to a teacher! What if this goes on my permanent record? I'll never get to Harvard if I talk back to my superiors like that.”

Nelson shrugged. “You worry too much. I thought it was cool. Besides, knowing you, you were probably right.”

“...Thank you, Nelson,” she said earnestly, looking down in embarrassment. “I kind of expected you to laugh at me, for being a nerd and all. Also what I did doesn't seem like much compared to the stuff you do,” she admitted. “No offense.”

“None taken,” he replied and leaned back in his chair putting his hands behind his head. “I know that stuff’s a pretty big deal if you do it. You're a goody two-shoes, everyone knows that. But this just confirmed my suspicions.”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “Which are…?”

“You're a rebel at heart.”

Lisa sat there staring at Nelson, trying to decipher what that sudden spark in his eyes meant. After a moment, she closed her book and shifted in her seat to face him more comfortably. “You know, there are a lot of things worth rebelling against in this world, like injustice, corruption, discrimination, inequality and outdated psychology,” she defended herself. “That's not a bad thing.”

“I didn't say it was,” he replied. “But I think you try to hide the fact that you love breaking the rules.”

“I didn't say I loved breaking the—”

“Did it feel good?”

“Huh?”

“When you told the old creep to shove it, did it feel good?”

Lisa narrowed her eyes at Nelson, who now had a challenging look in his. “What are you getting at?”

“All I'm saying is, there's a rush that comes with rebelling against authority when everyone else is too afraid to say what they think. You’ve got a taste for that rush.”

“Don't be ridiculous,” she scoffed.

“Y’know, I’m no expert on this sort of thing but you probably could’ve, I dunno, asked nicely if you could instead learn something that wasn't Right Said Fred—”

“Sigmund Freud.”

“Whatever. And the teacher would've considered it. Maybe. But instead...you told him to shove it up his ass,” Nelson’s grin grew into a snicker as he recounted the fact.

Lisa buried her face in her hands and groaned. “This isn't making me feel any better.”

“C’mon, Lis, cheer up!” Nelson leaned forward and rested on his crossed arms once again. “Wanna ditch this little hellhole and go get some ice cream or somethin’?”

“Are you out of your mind?!” Lisa sputtered. “How are we supposed to sneak out of detention when the teacher’s right there?”

He pointed her to look to the opposite side of the room, where the teacher sat at the desk. She was still immersed in her crossword puzzle, now with earbuds stuck in her ears, oblivious to the chaos in the room. “She always does that. I always sneak out after a while. Best thing is that she doesn’t even realize you left in the first place. Why do you think I sit next to the window?”

Lisa looked at the teacher, then at the window next to them, then back at Nelson and bit her lip, unsure about the plan. She had never snuck out of detention before. Not that she’s had many chances to practice. “Are you sure?” she asked in a whisper.

“Trust me,” he reassured her. He got up, slinging his backpack over his shoulder and walked up to the window. He glanced back at the teacher one more time, then proceeded to open the window with a loud creak. Both him and Lisa whipped their heads around only to see that the teacher didn’t move a muscle. The other students ignored them as well. Lisa let out a relieved sigh. Nelson was already expertly climbing out the small rectangular portion of the window that could be opened, and made it outside in no time. “Now you. Move it!”

Lisa hurriedly put her book away and threw her backpack on before approaching the window. “Um,” she hesitated, trying to find a good angle to squeeze through while wearing a skirt. She noticed Nelson was busy looking out for someone who could spot them, so it wasn’t like he could take a peek in case her skirt hiked up. She ducked her head and stuck one leg out the window. Unfortunately, that was when Nelson decided to turn his head back to her.

“Whoa! Careful, I can see your—” He stammered in surprise as his cheeks went pink.

“ _Don’t,_ ” she warned him curtly, her face even more flushed.

“Yeah, okay.” He simply cupped a hand around his face and looked the other way, laughing nervously. Despite this, he held out his other hand offering support, which Lisa took begrudgingly.

With a little hopping to regain balance as she set her feet down on the grass, Lisa had made it out of the window safely and unnoticed (by anyone else), which meant they were both free now. She quickly retrieved her hand from Nelson’s, patted down her skirt and cleared her throat, trying to forget about the mishap. “So, about that ice cream?”

“Sure. Let us head to our noble carriage,” he made way for her with a bow, making her snort and roll her eyes as she shoved him lightly. He laughed along and walked beside her. “How did you like sneaking out of detention for the first time?”

“Well, no one noticed us, so...not as exciting as I thought it’d be,” she said nonchalantly.

He snorted and looked away. “Speak for yourself,” he mumbled with a sly smirk.

Lisa smacked his arm with full force.

“Ow! You’re stronger than you look!” He winced and rubbed at his arm.

“Yeah? You can thank Bart for that,” she said with annoyance combined with the amusement she felt from smacking Nelson’s arm. When she looked back at him, she couldn’t help but burst into jovial laughter. It was a contagious laugh that got to him immediately. Now both cackling loudly, they playfully bumped into each other as they made their way towards the school parking lot. Nelson picked up the pace to get to where his motorcycle was parked. Custom-made, of course, since it had been his passion for years. No helmets, though. Lisa gulped, slowly walking up to it.

She surveyed their surroundings while Nelson looked for his keys in his backpack. She had never realized how quiet and deserted the school seemed when everyone was in class...or serving detention. A sense of trepidation creeped up on her as she remembered what she was doing. Top student Lisa Simpson was ditching school after escaping detention with the help of the school’s most infamous delinquent, Nelson Muntz. She must have been out of her mind. How did he talk her into this? Something about ice cream? The promise of an exciting bike ride around town?

“Hey, goldilocks. You comin’ or what?” Nelson interrupted her thoughts. He revved the engine impatiently.

“Sorry!” Lisa quickly climbed on the bike, uncomfortable with her choice of wardrobe for the second time today. She adjusted in the seat and tightly locked her arms around Nelson’s middle. She felt him take in a slow deep breath as she did. “I'm, uh, ready to roll. Um, shouldn't we be wearing helmets?” She asked, barely even finishing her question before Nelson hit the gas and they took off.

“Don't worry, just hold on tight!” He called over the proud roar of his motorcycle. Lisa wasn’t sure if she could hold on any tighter, but hold on tight she did, as she wondered if he was such a skilled mechanic why he couldn’t make this bike run silently.

 _Because then he wouldn’t be Nelson_ , she thought. She remembered all the times she had tried to change him over the years, always coming to the same conclusion: Nelson couldn’t be anyone but himself. Just like Springfield couldn’t be anything other than Springfield. She had found this disheartening in the past, thinking this town and everyone in it were doomed to be stagnant in mediocrity forever while she pursued big dreams, but as years went by she had noticed that the town had been evolving on its own, just like its residents. Now almost 18, Nelson was still Nelson, but he had changed on his own, organically. While still a delinquent, he no longer bullied other kids for their lunch money. Ironically, he now protected the weaker kids from other bullies, finding it immensely more satisfying to  _haw-haw_  at insecure guys trying to act tough while their victims thanked him. He helped people in his own particular Nelson way. Lisa cherished that.

After riding for a while, she didn't really mind the roar of the engine anymore. She was lost in thought, basking in the warmth of the early afternoon sun, feeling the wind in her hair and catching some of the smell of Nelson’s. It smelled vaguely of huckleberries and cigarettes and something else she couldn't quite put her finger on. It was an odd combination for sure, maybe even unappealing to most people, but she wasn't sure why the smell was so comforting to her. After all these years, Nelson was still a riddle wrapped in an enigma wrapped in a vest.

Nelson pulled over in front of the first Phineas Q. Butterfat’s they came across and killed the engine. “Today's the first time I'm taking this baby out for a ride. How did ya like it?” He asked over his shoulder.

“It was...fun! A little loud, though,” Lisa replied as she carefully got off the bike and smoothed down her skirt.

He followed suit and leaned down to lock the bike. “Eh, I like loud. It's powerful. I know it’s not very eco-friendly or whatever, but I don’t know how to make it that without it being a bicycle. If I learn how, I might even fix one up for you someday.”

She smiled at Nelson’s thoughtfulness. “I’d like that.”

They entered the ice cream parlor and were greeted at the counter by a squeaky-voiced young man. “Welcome to Phineas Q. Butterfat’s, what can I get you?”

“Um…” Lisa looked expectantly at Nelson, who simply stared back at her blankly.

“What.”

She looked down with a shy smile. “Well...you invited me and I don't know how much money you have, even though it was very nice of you to—”

“Oh, I don't have any money. I was sorta hoping you did.”

Lisa’s expression completely vanished as she slowly looked back up to him. Nelson didn’t move a muscle. They both stared at each other in tense silence.

The squeaky-voiced young man was starting to get uncomfortable. “Uh...sirs—”

“You  _TRICKED_ me into leaving school to buy  _YOU_ ice cream?!” Lisa roared at Nelson.

“Wh-- I never  _SAID_ I'd buy you ice cream! I just suggested you could go get some so I brought you here!” He raised his shoulders defensively.

“But you made it sound like a— like a—  _Ohhh!!_ ” She groaned furiously and went to grab him by his vest with both fists, but stopped herself and put her face in her hands. “What's the point,” she sighed, “just take me back to school before detention’s over.”

Nelson stood there frozen in place as he watched Lisa stormed out of the shop. He finally let his shoulders fall, letting out a deep grumble and turned to the squeaky-voiced young man, who had a somewhat terrified expression on his face in response to Nelson’s scowl. “Two ice cream sandwiches,” he demanded with a growl.

“S-sir, I thought you said you didn’t have—”

Nelson leaned in close enough to threaten him in whispers. “Look, man, I don’t wanna do this, okay? But that girl,” he nodded at Lisa outside, “didn’t sacrifice her perfect school attendance to miss out on some damn good ice cream. You wanna ruin an innocent girl’s day? Break her heart? Is that what you want?” Nelson glowered down on him. The squeaky-voiced young man shook his head and sank between his shoulders. “That’s what I thought. Now fork ‘em over or I’ll run that bike through your store.”

Lisa sat on the bench outside with her arms crossed and didn’t turn her head when the hanging door bell chimed to indicate Nelson’s exit. She was too busy thinking about how much of a fool she was for believing that he had changed on his own. That he was no longer the same 10 year old boy who once uncaringly told her to leave on her own so he could take a nap after inviting her over to his house. And then lied to her about throwing spoiled coleslaw at Principal Skinner’s house. Nelson Muntz would never change. He would always be a brutish, selfish, childish...ice cream sandwich. Lisa’s inner rant got cut short when a large hand held a single ice cream sandwich in front of her face.

She took the ice cream sandwich and looked up to the owner of the hand with a questioning look. “I thought you didn't have any money.”

He shrugged and sat next to her. “Dude gave ‘em to me.”

Lisa frowned and pursed her lips in disapproval. She knew Nelson well enough to know what that meant. She had been hoping he was past this kind of behavior by now, but he had just proved, once again, that he would never change.

Then again…

There was something oddly sweet and exciting about him doing this type of things for her. She knew it was wrong, so why was her mouth curving into in a smile?

“Your ice cream’s gonna melt,” Nelson pointed out, already halfway through eating his own.

Lisa snapped out of it. “Oh, mind your own ice cream,” she mumbled and took a bite out of her ice cream sandwich.

They sat and enjoyed their treats in comfortable silence for a while. It was a beautiful day. Lisa noticed how different the town felt when you’re supposed to be at school. Something about it made her feel like the town’s sole purpose was to be there for them, as if they owned the town. Could be an effect of cheating the system and riding away on a motorcycle, she theorized. In any case, she was greatly enjoying her unusual day, and it was all thanks to Nelson. She glanced sheepishly at him.

“Hey, um...sorry I yelled at you. Thanks for taking me out for ice cream,” she said with a smile.

He looked at her from the corner of his eye and smirked. “Even if I made you miss school?”

“Please. No point in learning anything with that teacher,” she scoffed and waved her hand dismissively.

“Heh. Well, count on me to help you ditch school anytime.”

She put a hand on her hip and feigned taking great offense at what he said. “What, you don't think I can do it by myself?”

“To be frank, Lis,” Nelson leaned in close and cocked an eyebrow smugly, “if you do it on your own, who else are you gonna hang out and eat ice cream with?” He then chucked his crumpled up ice cream sandwich wrapper right at her forehead.

Lisa shoved him away, making him laugh. She couldn’t hold back her own grin as she looked down at her feet, stretching them and joining the tips together. “I really wouldn't mind doing this together more often,” she said softly. But then quickly added, mostly on impulse, “uh, you know, as friends.”

Nelson’s smile faded with a frustrated sigh and slumped back in his seat. “Yeah, yeah...you always say that. I'm not Van Houten, y’know.”

No, he wasn’t anything like Milhouse, and Lisa recognized this. No matter how many times Lisa said she and Milhouse weren’t together, he would still go behind her back and tell everyone that they were. He had been doing it for years, with seeming little regard for Lisa’s feelings. Nelson on the other hand, was the opposite, in a way. For someone who acted tough all the time, he seemed to care a lot about Lisa’s feelings. Which she wasn’t used to. And despite all the things they’d do together, that they wouldn’t do with anyone else, they would remain simply friends with each other. Lisa had been thinking this didn’t make much sense, and from the looks of it, so had Nelson.

She bent her knees, dragging her feet back underneath the bench. She couldn’t bring herself to look at him. “Nelson…what  _are_ we?”

He remained silent for a long time, undecipherable, until he finally said, “You tell me.”

Lisa bit her lip. She fiddled with the now empty ice cream sandwich wrapper in her hands, thinking for a moment. “Well, I don't...know how you feel about me, to be honest.”

The question seemed to have caught him off guard. Lisa wasn't looking at him, but he still he looked away in the opposite direction as if trying to avoid her gaze. He shrugged. “I guess I…” he trailed off, shortly before noticing the three older but familiar guys walking down the sidewalk towards them. “Ah, shit,” he groaned quietly. The change of his tone made Lisa look up as well, who then deflated with a groan of her own.

“Hey, look who it is!” The shorter guy with red hair covering half of his face called out while pointing at them.

“Shouldn't you kids be at school?” The bigger guy with the shaved head chided derisively.

“Shouldn't you be eating my ass?” Nelson retorted.

“Whoaaa!” Jimbo, Dolph and Kearney gasped loudly in unison.

“Hangin’ around the Simpson chick put some hair on your chest, didn’t it? Did she teach you that?” Jimbo taunted Nelson, with Dolph next to him making exaggerated makeout noises.

Nelson rolled his eyes and stood up, turning away from his former companions to look at Lisa, whose face had gone red and hands had balled up in fists. “Ignore ‘em, let’s just go,” he told her.

“Where do you think you’re goin’?” Kearney grabbed Nelson’s shoulder and yanked him back around, “You never hang with us anymore and now you're gonna treat us like that?”

Nelson jerked away from his grasp and glared at them. “I already told you I’m done wasting my time with you assholes. Piss off.”

“Oooh, look who’s acting all high and mighty! Just ‘cause he’s with Little Miss Perfect now,” Jimbo sneered, returning the glare.

“He really thinks he’s too good to hang out with us now!!” Dolph said, and the three guffawed.

Before Nelson could respond and the old bullies could finish laughing, Lisa had already strode over to them, then without hesitation slapped Jimbo hard across the face.

All four guys stood still in stunned silence.

“He said piss off, now go!” Lisa ordered.

Nobody moved an inch.

“ _NOW!!_ ” Lisa raised her hand again, and they—including Nelson—took a step back.

Dolph and Kearney stared at Jimbo with wide eyes. The mark of Lisa’s open palm was turning hot red on his cheek. It was clear it was starting to sting. “Whatever,” Jimbo muttered through his teeth and started walking away holding his cheek, followed hesitantly by his cronies.

Lisa took a deep breath. Her heart was pounding in her chest. She turned back to Nelson, who was still stupefied. “So, are we going?” she asked with a forced smile, tucking a stray lock of hair back in place.

“I uh, yeah. We can go,” he stammered and quickly searched his pockets for his keys.

While Nelson was unlocking the bike, Lisa stood by him, rubbing at the hand she had smacked Jimbo with. It hurt more than she thought it would. Strangely enough, she didn’t regret it in the slightest. She caught Nelson’s gaze, who seemed to have been staring at her. He quickly looked away and cleared his throat.

“That was pretty awesome,” he said as he got on the bike.

She perked up. “Really?”

“Yeah. Takes a special kind of badass to do what you did,” he noted, and Lisa smiled shyly. “Or a dumbass,” he added with a laugh, to which Lisa groaned at.

“Gee, thanks,” she said dryly and climbed on the passenger seat. “See if I ever save your butt again.”

Lisa heard him snicker at her halfhearted warning before the booming engine drowned every other sound. She hated to admit that he had a point; trying to take on three older guys known for being cruel wasn’t the brightest idea. She shook her head. Today had just been a string of bad decisions and poor judgement on her part. First she tells her teacher to shove it, then she sneaks out of detention on a motorcycle to have ice cream with Nelson, then she slaps Jimbo in the face. She recalled what Nelson said earlier about her being a rebel and liking to break the rules. Immediately after, she noticed the huge satisfaction she felt as they sped past the bullies walking on the sidewalk and Nelson crowed a big  _haw-haw_  at them.

Maybe he wasn’t wrong.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi! thanks for reading up to this point. i have no idea what i'm doing but i'm having fun. enjoy!

“Oh no...”

It was already too late when they arrived back at the school. The last bell had just rung and both faculty and students were going home for the day. Nelson had pulled over at a moderate distance from the school; close enough to see the people coming out without being spotted by anyone. He glanced over his shoulder at Lisa. While he didn’t particularly care about missing detention—after all, he did this sort of thing pretty often—she seemed distraught that she couldn’t get back before her hours were over. What a weird girl, this one was.

“What’s wrong?”

“My detention slip is still in there.”

“So...?”

“So now I can’t have my parents sign it.”

“Why do you want your parents to know you had detention?”

Lisa opened her mouth to answer, then closed it. She stared at him.

“I mean,” Nelson continued, “I’ve seen Bart’s detention slips and your dad’s signature isn’t so hard to do. You can just sign it tomorrow before you turn it in.”

“Nelson, that’s not very honest!” she scolded him. “Besides, it’s still in there. I’d need it back in any case.”

“Oh, yeah.” He looked back at the school building, pondering. “Guess we’ll come back tonight and break in to get it.”

Lisa snorted. “Yeah, can’t wait to mission impossible my detention slip out of school,” she said sarcastically with a tired laugh, then sighed. “I’ll figure something out tomorrow. I just wanna go home now.” She wrapped her arms tighter around Nelson, who furrowed his brows at her defeated tone.

“It'll be fine,” he reassured her, “as long as you bring your own ski mask. Mine’s too big for you. And stinks.” This made Lisa chuckle lightly against his back. Pleased with her response, he proceeded to drive her home.

  
Riding down the street, Nelson spotted Bart leisurely cruising on his skateboard by himself. The two had become close friends over the years, surprising each other with how much they had in common. Pranks, bikes, making fun of Milhouse. Had Nelson known he could get along with Bart so well, he wouldn’t have bullied him so much when they were kids. Maybe. He revved the motorcycle to get his attention. Once he saw Bart look up, he slowed down to a halt by the sidewalk.

Bart pulled up his skateboard and jogged up to them. “Where’ve you guys been all day?”

“Ditchin’ detention,” Nelson replied, and Lisa smacked his back. “Hey! It ain’t a lie!”

Lisa pointed a warning finger at Bart. “Bart, if you say anything about this to mom, I swear to god—”

“Eh, she’ll find out sooner or later,” he shrugged. “The whole damn school knows you ditched.”

“...They _what_?!”

“Hey, nice vroom-vroom. Is it new?” Bart nodded at Nelson, completely ignoring Lisa’s horrified cry.

“Yeah, finished her up last night,” Nelson revved up one more time with pride.

“Cool. Can I get a ride?”

“NO!” Lisa protested.

“Too bad.” Bart hopped on the back, propping himself up with both hands on Lisa’s shoulders and his feet on the mufflers on each side of the motorcycle, his knees squashing Lisa’s sides. She elbowed his leg in return with an irritated grumble. “Ow! Man, you’re pissy today.”

“Yeah well, you're not helping,” she muttered.

“You break something back there and you're gonna pay for it, Simpson!” Nelson called out threateningly.

“Uh-oh! You heard the man, Lis.”

Both Lisa and Nelson rolled their eyes, exasperated. “Just go, Nelson. Maybe he'll fall off somewhere along the way.”

 

Much to Lisa’s disappointment, Bart didn’t fall off at any point along the way. And much to Nelson’s chagrin, he had managed to snap one of the mufflers off the bike, leaving it hanging off and crooked. It still worked, but his pride and joy had no business looking like that on her first day.

Bart swiftly hopped off as Nelson pulled over in front of the Simpson residence. “Thanks for the ride, man. Sorry about the muffler.”

“You owe me your blood, sweat, tears and lunch money for that.”

“Yeah, I’m sure we can strike a deal. Just put it on my tab. Oh gee, is that the time? My telenovela’s starting! Gotta go! See ya tomorrow!” Bart motormouthed and ran inside before Nelson could even respond.

“Tsk, coward.” Lisa carefully climbed off the motorcycle so as to avoid breaking anything else. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure he helps you fix it. After he tells me what the school knows about my, um...escapade,” she said looking down in quiet shame. “But you know,” she continued, peering up at Nelson through her eyelashes and smiling warmly, “despite everything...I had a good day.”

He smirked and propped his crossed arms on the handlebar. “Must’ve been some damn good ice cream, huh.”

“Yes. Yes, it was,” she chuckled.

There was an awkward pause as Lisa’s laugh died down, but they were both still smiling. Not at each other, but at the ground, wanting to say something but unsure of what to say. However, before either of them had any chance to say anything else, their little moment was cut short by a familiar raspy voice.

“Lisa, honey?” Lisa’s mother could be heard calling her out from the house. She then could be seen peeking out the front door, wearing an apron with a few chocolate and flour stains on it. “Could you help your father with the cookie jar? Oh, and hello, Nelson. Come on in, I just made some brownies!”

“Sorry, Mrs. S. Gotta get home and make my mom some breakfast,” he replied as he straightened himself and put his hands back on the handles.

“It's almost 4 in the afternoon,” Marge looked down at her wristwatch with raised eyebrows.

Nelson simply shrugged. “Yeah, she has work early tonight.”

“Hrrm...well, be safe on your way home,” Marge said with her usual concerned tone, which Nelson still wasn't quite used to hearing, and headed back inside.

Lisa turned to face him one last time with a small smile. “So...I guess I'll smell ya later.”

“Smell ya later,” he said back at her as he watched her wave goodbye and hurry into her house to help her dad with whatever he did with the cookie jar. He kickstarted the bike and rode off.

 

Nelson stepped into his small dilapidated home and closed the door behind him, even though the mosquito screen that made up the majority of it was so torn open, there was barely any point in doing so anymore. He dropped off his backpack on the couch and walked over to the kitchen. “Mom?”

Mrs. Muntz dragged her feet out of her room. She looked like a mess— her satin robe hanging off a shoulder, her face still caked in smudged makeup from the night before, cigarette in her hand. Nothing new. “Oh, thank god you're here, for a moment I thought I was gonna have to make food with this hangover,” she slurred as she took a seat at the kitchen —and only—  table. She rubbed her temples slowly. “Get mommy her pills, wouldja? How was school?”

Nelson grabbed the pill bottle from the counter and placed it in front of her. “I got detention,” he answered flatly and turned away to grab a bowl and a box of cereal from the cupboard.

“No kiddin’. Dunno why I even ask anymore,” Mrs. Muntz exhaled a puff of smoke. She fumbled with the pill bottle for a moment before glancing at her son, who was now ducking into the fridge looking for milk. “You should just quit.”

Nelson bumped his head when he tried to look up. “What?” he spat, rubbing his head.

“Just quit school,” she repeated with a shrug. “Get a job. The club’s been lookin’ for a new bouncer since the last one got shanked, y’know. Oh and forget the milk, I got somethin’ right here,” she said as she reached for the bottle of scotch she had left on the table the night before and dragged it towards her.

He frowned and closed the fridge. “I’m not quittin’ school, ma. It’s...important.”

His mother rolled her eyes. “Here we go again. Honey, I dropped out of school and I turned out fine!” she said with a sleazy smile, though it was more likely that she had intended it to be a reassuring smile. Regardless, it quickly vanished when it was met with Nelson’s hard stare. She narrowed her eyes. “This is that little blondie tellin’ you what to do again, ain’t it? Y’know, I don't really like her comin’ here, she gets all self-important and tells me how to live my life...” she muttered as she seemingly took out her anger on her pill bottle, which she hadn’t managed to open yet. “Who does that brat think she is?”

Nelson’s jaw clenched and his expression hardened even more. “She's just trying to help,” he said icily.

“I don't need help from some kid,” Mrs. Muntz scoffed. After a moment of growling at the bottle, she shoved it back at Nelson. “Open this damn thing. These childproof caps get worse every time, I tells ya.”

He effortlessly opened it for her and set it on the table with a louder tunk than he intended. As he watched his mother pop her pills for god knows what and pour the half empty bottle of scotch into her cereal, he debated whether or not there was any point in talking about this. He knew he didn’t have the right words, and even if he did, his mother wasn’t the type of person to admit that she was wrong. It was something he had been noticing as he grew older, along with this new urge to defend Lisa whenever someone tried to mess with her. He had to admit he had no idea how to handle any of it.

Nelson let out a deep sigh in an attempt to calm himself down and opted for going to his room, leaving his mother to her cereal and cigarettes.

 

Back at the Simpsons’, the smell of fresh brownies permeated the air. Lisa walked into the kitchen as Bart was walking out, cackling. Marge was serving the tray of brownies she had just taken out of the oven. Homer was sitting at the kitchen table with a hand stuck inside the cookie jar, stubby fingers trying to reach for the last cookie sitting at the bottom. His other hand was stuck as well, after Bart had tempted him with an almost empty can of potato chips. It’s almost as if Bart always had a half empty can of chips at hand, just in case he gets the chance to do this. Lisa watched his father sit there helplessly, still attempting to grab the cookie in the jar.

“Dad, really? Again?” asked Lisa.

“It's not my fault they keep making these jars smaller and smaller!” Homer whined.

“It's the same jar we've had for years,” Marge noted. “You’ve been gaining weight, Homer.”

“Don’t worry, dad. Just hold your hands up like this for a while,” Lisa said as she took his father’s stuck hands and held them up vertically. “Gravity will do its job and reduce the blood flow in your arms, once they’re less swollen you can wiggle out more easily.”

“Heheh, why, thank you Dr. Lisa!” Homer chirped with a proud smile and obediently held his hands up, making Lisa giggle.

“How was school, sweetie?” Marge asked, and Lisa froze.

“Uhh…” she stopped to think of a way to lie to her parents as little as possible. They both blinked expectantly at her. “...Fun! And enlightening. Worked on my um...assertiveness,” she said with a nod. “And uh...hey, how come you never ask Bart how school was?” she attempted to change the subject.

Marge sighed and shook her head without looking up from the brownies she was cutting up. “With all the time he spends in detention, sometimes it’s best not to know.”

Lisa gulped.

Bart suddenly popped his head around the kitchen door frame. “Hey, Lis, did you tell them abou—”

Lisa immediately sprinted towards him and put a hand over his mouth. “ABOUT MY DAY, yes. I just did,” she said quickly. “Can I ask you about _your_ day? Let’s go upstairs. Keep those hands up, dad!” Lisa reminded Homer while she shoved Bart out of the kitchen.

“Aww, they’re finally bonding,” said Homer as he looked at Marge, who raised an eyebrow in suspicion.

Lisa had barely managed to finish dragging Bart upstairs when he licked Lisa’s palm. “ _Argh!!_ ” she jerked it away and wiped it on his shirt. “Bart, I’m serious! I don’t want mom and dad finding out about this!”

“Why not? It’s not like it’s the first time you get detention.”

“It’s not about detention, it’s about _ditching school_ ! With _Nelson Muntz_ of all people!” she hissed in a whisper.

“Oh yeah. Everyone’s been talking about that.”

Lisa’s expression turned mortified. “Oh god. What are they saying?”

“Everyone thinks you’re a couple now, but Milhouse wasted no time in telling everyone otherwise, if you know what I mean.”

“We’re not— wait, Milhouse?!” her tone had gone from embarrassed to indignant.

Bart shrugged. “To be honest, I doubt anyone actually believed him. So people still think you’re dating Nelson.”

Lisa buried her flushed face in her hands with a groan. “People must think I’m a delinquent now.”

“What’s the matter? I thought you liked Nelson.”

“I— It’s not that, I just— ...I don’t _dislike_ him, okay?” she huffed. “It’s just...a girl like me...ditching school with someone like him…”

“Well, for what it’s worth, everyone thinks you’re cool now.”

She looked up at him. “...They do?”

“Dunno if you’ve noticed, but Nelson’s actually pretty popular at school. Everyone loves a cool bad guy. Believe me, toots. I know,” Bart said coolly, running a hand through his hair. Lisa rolled her eyes. “So enjoy it while it lasts. Even Martin seemed a little jealous of you. I also heard your class was pretty impressed when you told your teacher to shove it. A little amateur, by the way, but it’s gold coming from you, in my professional opinion.”

A smirk grew on Lisa’s face as she regained her confidence. “Yeah, well. The jerk had it coming,” she said with all the nonchalance she could muster.

Bart put a hand to his chest and feigned tearing up. “I have never been so proud of you in my life, sis.”

Lisa snorted and couldn’t help but actually smile a little at that. Suddenly, she remembered another of her concerns. Having just shared this nice moment with Bart, she figured there was no harm in asking for a little help from an expert on this subject. “Oh yeah, I also left my detention slip at school.”

“Uh-oh.”

“Yeah, I mean...I was planning to have mom and dad sign—”

“Wait. Stop, stop. Why?”

“What do you mean ‘why’? Because it’s the right thing to do! Jeez, you’re just like Nelson sometimes.”

“Ew, don’t say that. Anyway, you’re already lying to them about ditching school, why not go ahead and lie about detention too? Turn in a fake slip tomorrow. I do it all the time.”

Lisa groaned. “Even if I _wanted_ to do that, I still need my detention slip. Which is _at school_. Do you see my problem here?”

“Oh, yeah. Welp,” Bart clicked his tongue and put a hand on his sister’s shoulder, “you’re shit out of luck.” He turned around and walked to his room.

“...Wow, thanks for the help,” she grumbled.

 

Later that evening, Lisa was pacing in her room. She had already talked to Janey and Allison to ask about the classes she had missed and had just finished her homework for the day. Everything in order, except for that damn detention slip. She considered the worst case scenario if she couldn’t get it back: they find that the slip never left the school, while Lisa did. Then they call her parents and have them sit at the Principal’s office to tell them how their daughter not only left the building during school hours, but also skipped detention with some hooligan, or so the rumors say. As Lisa played out this scenario dramatically in her head, she realized her eyes had gone dry because she had forgotten to blink. She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head. This was too much. She needed to get the detention slip back and maybe —Lord Buddha help her—  fake her parents’ signatures. She recalled Nelson’s comment about breaking in to get it, and as ridiculous at it sounded, at this point she was so desperate that she was willing to try it.

Suddenly her phone buzzed. It was a text from Nelson.

> **do u have ur ski mask rdy**
>
>> **Oh my god. Were you reading my mind?**
> 
> **mayb?**
>
>> **I was just about to ask if you were**  
>  **serious about breaking into the school.**
> 
> **lol**  
>  **look outside ur window**

Lisa ran up to her window. Sure enough, there was Nelson standing in the backyard, looking up at her with his cracked phone in his hand. He wasn’t wearing a ski mask, but she could tell by the dark clothes he was wearing that he was serious.

This was ridiculous.


End file.
